Dream Ring
by MatildaHummingbird
Summary: When Lassiter starts dreaming of Spencer in a whole new light, he has to accept what those dreams mean. But when Shawn goes missing- Lassiter has a harder time accepting what he finds in the 'psychic's' apartment. SLASH FIC!
1. Prologue: Dream Ring

**A/N: **So I'm having trouble with my current fic "Lassie Hates Ramen Noodles" mainly because I had this plot bunny running amuck in my head. The idea just wouldn't leave me alone so I decided to put it to a vote.

Please, please PLEASE give this prologue a read, and then review telling me if I should make it into a full blown fic. Keep in mind I do intend on fishing my other fic but for some reason this one just won't leave me alone.

Thanks!

~Matilda

**Dream Ring**

Five years ago, if anyone had looked Carlton Lassiter in the eye and told him that he'd one day grow to love Shawn Spencer – Carlton Lassiter would've laughed. Carlton Lassiter would've laughed exceptionally hard. Lassiter would laugh and the poor bastard who made the accusation would've been admitted to an institution.

As it stands, that was five years ago. Today if someone dared to look Carlton Lassiter in the face and say 'you love Shawn Spencer' then Carlton Lassiter would've become baffled, and defensive, but he couldn't deny it. He couldn't.

Every cased they've ever solved, every odd impression, and every 80's reference ever made by Shawn Spencer, had all somehow engraved themselves into Lassiter's mind. Lassiter's stress level had risen considerably in the last five years but the detective always assumed it was because his distaste for Spencer was developing into murderous hate. He was convinced of this undeniable fact right up until the night he started dreaming of the psychic.

The dream was always the same; the station would be empty and for some reason filled with fog. Lassiter would be at his desk, working on a report. The doors would open with a large amount of noise. Shawn would then waltz in like he owned the place; ina a beeline straight for Lassiter's desk. Sometimes he did the polka, but usually while doing the foxtrot.

"Spencer I'm busy."

"I need you."

"Go away Spencer."

"Lassie, help me."

"You're perfectly fine Spencer, now out."

The whole time they conversed, Lassiter would fail to lift his head from his paper – he couldn't look at Spencer. Wouldn't look at Spencer, I mean -why would he? Spencer was annoying.

At this point in the dream, warm hands would reach over Lassiter's desk and cup his face. Lassiter's eyes would slip closed and soft lips were pressed together. Spencer was kissing him. Oh god Spencer was kissing him! Oh god he was kissing back! For those few seconds, everything around Lassiter went unnoticed; the paper work, the station, the fog – none of it existed. Just Spencer existed.

That part of the dream was always blissful, and over the two month time the dream re-occurred at night; detective Lassiter had came to accept that he was indeed in love with the psychic. Which is why the last couple of nights when the dream suddenly turned – Lassiter could hardly stand it.

The dream would start the same, with Shawn coming to him in the station and stealing a kiss, but after the long kiss – Lassiter had begun to open his eyes, to look at Spencer when they were done. He never liked what he saw.

Spencer looked scared, and lonely. He was always sporting a fat lip, and a black eye. When did he get hurt like that? Who hurt him? Lassiter would gently run his fingers over Shawn's face, wanting to ask those questions but as he tried – Shawn would start to disappear.

"Shawn!"

"Save me Lassie."

It was a horrid dream, and Lassiter had lost a considerable amount of sleep over it. However no matter how horrible the dream got – it was nothing compared to what was happening now.

Shawn Spencer was declared missing, the Psych office having been broken into and tossed around. Gus had been the first to arrive, and when he saw the state of the office and no sign of his best friend he called the police immediately. Dejavu.

"He's not answering his phone." O'Hara confirmed that much when she tried the psychic's cell.

Lassiter had to keep calm. This had happened before when Shawn was shot, and Shawn was fine when they found him then. So Shawn would be fine again. He had to be.

Lassiter took a long breathe, and while O'Hara and Guster searched for clues in the psych building, Lassiter and Henry made for Shawn's apartment to try and re-trace his steps.

"I'll look around the kitchen." Henry said "You check the bedroom."

Normally Lassiter didn't enjoy taking orders from the older Spencer, but arguing wouldn't help the situation at all. Shawn was gone. With the way Lassiter's heart clenched at the thought – Lassiter couldn't forget that. Who had him this time? Why?

They were questions Lassiter hoped would be answered with a happy ending, and answers he hoped to get closer to with every bit of searching he did. So as Henry ordered, Lassiter made his way into Shawn's bed room.

It was messy, Shawn needed to do laundry – there was no doubt. However there was still nothing incredibly dirty or off about the space. Lassiter sighed and started his search, unsurprised when every drawer he opened brought up nothing but clothes. It wasn't until Lassiter checked the night stand did he find something relevant. His stomach dropped as he scooped the velvet box into his palm, the gold band inside glinting off the light in mockery as it blatantly told Lassiter something Lassiter didn't want to know.

Shawn Spencer was or had been at some point in his life – married.


	2. Knots

**A/N: **So the second chapter, hurrah! I got enough feed back that I decided the plot bunny wasn't completely crazy! So, here is the second chapter. As the fic goes along the chapters will get longer and – yes, this is a Shassie fic. It's not entirely evident yet -but it WILL happen. So hang tight. Reviews are appreciated! Please enjoy, and I should apologize, this fic like my others does have OCs. I promise not to make them over bearing say for 'Giselle' whose overbearing in the fact that she's a b-tch and not the fact that she's perfect. Though she will try to be.

**ALSO** -I should explain that this fic is actually roughly based on one of Henry's lines from the newest Christmas episode. (At least I think it's the newest one) - _'Sometimes I wonder what life would've been like if you hadn't come back to Santa Barbara from wherever you had gone._' – Not the exact line, but that was the one line in the entire episode where I was like "whoa whoa whoa! Go back and explain that shit!" aren't I just a treat?

Chow for Now!

~Matilda

**Knots**

Shawn woke up, only to realize he wasn't in the Psych office anymore, instead he was in a garage of some sort. His neck ached from the way his head been lulled to the side while he was unconscious. What the hell happened? He tried to remember.

His day had started on an odd note; up abnormally early he had decided to hit up the office first to check some messages. He was barely through the threshold of the psych building before he got jumped from behind.

"What the-" the sentence barely made it out of Shawn's mouth when he was shoved to the ground, landing with a thud and getting winded. The full weight of someone else's body holding him down, Shawn grunted uncomfortably. He tried using his weight to lift whoever the hell off of him, but his resistance was punished immediately. His head got twisted and his temple got smacked against the floor. Shawn couldn't speak, and stars exploded behind his eyes. He was gone and out.

_Sunava bitch…._

As he slipped away he could briefly feel the weight of his attacker lift off of him, and he heard a few noises – but darkness over took him before he could make out what the hell was going on.

That's what he remembered, and now he was here, bound to a chair with a throbbing skull, and a gagged mouth. The garage was cold – but familiar. Shawn realized this and immediately started looking for significant details, he could barely turn his neck but he could enough. The garage was like any other, mostly concrete and filled with tools. It wasn't until he spotted half a motorcycle scattered in parts did he re-call where he was.

He was at his house – kind of. At least half of it was his. Not that he really cared. After all there _was_ a reason he came back to Santa Barbara five years ago. It wasn't just for shits and giggles.

Another try at the ropes and Shawn still couldn't move – like that was going to change. What could she possibly want from him? He had to wonder, and why the hell did she go to such drastic lengths? Shawn knew she was a bitch, but a crazy bitch? This was new information. Shawn sighed against his gag– he supposed at this point he had no choice but to wait it out. Even though he doubted it greatly he was willing to bet he could probably talk his way of this. But before he could try he had to wait for the bitch to show her face, and who knows when that was going to happen.

Shawn eventually dozed off, really unable to do much of anything else – and perhaps not three hours had passed before he was being jostled awake by rough hands. Bleary eyes opened and took in who exactly was man handling him. Shawn recognized the other man right away, and could've frowned.

The man was a tall African American, and he regarded Shawn with a half grin/ half scowl.

"I just got off the phone with Giselle." The man explained. "So Spencer, pack up because we've got to go."

The man used sarcasm, and chuckled at his own arrogance – Shawn wasn't laughing. This man was the man Shawn had came home to find in his bed five years ago. At that point in time Shawn knew his marriage was failing, but he never expected Giselle to cheat. The most Shawn could do was glare as the man unbound his legs from the chair and lift him over his shoulder like Shawn was nothing more then a small child. Which was saying something – Shawn was anything BUT a small child…..physically. The man carried him to the garage door, but didn't open it all the way. Instead he opened it just enough for Shawn to see the back end of a van open and waiting. The man carelessly threw him in. Shawn, who was still gagged, tried a few curse angry curse words. They went completely unnoticed.

The man was behind the steering wheel in no time at all and soon enough the van was taking off. At this point Shawn's head was reeling. He had been kidnapped by his wife Giselle and her wayward love affair – whoever he was, and they were planning on doing god knows what. Why? Shawn could only guess. He kicked himself repeatedly however, if he was found missing by now, SBPD would have no leads.

Not from lack of trying of course -Shawn had kept this part of his life a secret. He was regretting that now. Dammit all. On the bright side, if his dad got involved again then he and Lassie shouldn't be too far off…. he hoped.

Again all he could do was wait; if he tried moving the van would swerve and he'd fall right back down and he couldn't grab anything to support himself with the way his hands were hogged tied behind him. He had to give his captor credit there, the man knew how to tie a knot…

Meanwhile back at the station in Santa Barbara everyone was working around the clock to try to find Shawn. They put out various search parties, and kept uniforms stationed at his apartment and office. As for Lassie -he and Henry had reported back to the station shortly after they left Shawn's apartment.

"We didn't find anything," Henry spoke through clenched teeth, Lassiter on the other hand was thinking of the wedding ring he had collected as evidence. The idea of Spencer being romantically attached to someone else had Lassiter on edge, the jealousy that was growing inside him was alarmingly distracting – he was on a case. He had to focus on the case. Harder then it sounded.

As luck would have it, that's when a uniform came into the room and announced an unexpected arrival.

"Chief." The uniform got right to the point "There's a woman here who wants to know about the Spencer case.

"Officer Lee," the chief was stern "I gave specific orders for details of the case to be kept under wraps for as long as possible. It's bad enough the media is involved already. Tell the woman -whoever she is that she'll just have to wait."

"It's not that easy." The officer interjected "The woman's name is Giselle Spencer – she's claiming to be Mr. Spencer's wife."

Lassiter hated life sometimes.

"Shawn's not married." Henry stated that fact right away.

Lassiter sighed…..oh boy… "Actually Spencer, when we were in Shawn's apartment, I sort of found –a- uh – a wedding ring."

Henry was flustered, but he turned on Lassiter immediately. "You're telling me NOW?"

"It wasn't intentional." Lassiter covered his ass right away. "It's collected as evidence, but I doubted it'd have any significance."

The chief sighed, but kept it to herself, Lassiter knew that tone – they'd be talking later. Oh boy.

"Officer Lee." The chief said "Just show …Mrs. Spencer in."

The officer nodded and motioned for 'Mrs. Spencer' to come into the room. The woman who walked into the room, was not the woman Lassiter was expecting. Lassiter knew Shawn's type. Shawn liked small girls who even though could hold their own still needed help every now and then, Abigail and O'Hara being prime examples. The woman who walked in was neither Abigail or O'Hara.

Giselle Spencer was – scary, in a weird way. She walked with a swagger that just screamed 'don't mess with me' and in red heels to boot. Tight black jeans, a white T, and a red denim jacket to match her shoes. She was brunette, long locks held up in a tight bun atop her head. She left no room for imperfections – say for the tear tracks running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Giselle spoke right away. "I saw the news and I had to know, is there any news on where my husband could be?"

She sounded overly worried, and overly fake. Lassiter hated her immediately. "Not yet." Lassiter said, and he stuck to protocol to keep from ripping the woman's hair our. "You'll know when we know…Mrs. Spencer." He tripped over the last two words, Shawn really married – that?

"You must be detective Lassiter." Giselle smiled "Shawn's told me all about you – oh I really hope you find him." She sniffed, and looked as if she might cry some more. Lassiter gritted his teeth – who the hell was buying this?

Lassiter side glanced over to Henry who looked dumbfounded; Henry wasn't looking at Giselle per say but rather the gold band on her finger. "Mrs. Spencer." Again Lassiter gritted his teeth. "Before we disclose anything, I need proof that you're Mr. Spencer's wife."

_Ha! Caught you bitch!_

"Oh." Giselle sniffed again "Of course I'm sorry, I don't have my marriage licence with me, but I can collect it – would a photo be fine for now?"

_Dammit. _

"A photo would be fine." The chief spoke up "this is something I've got to see."

Giselle obliged and dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out a palm wallet, she flipped it open and pulled out a small picture. She handed it to Henry first.

"Dear god…" Henry couldn't believe it, "He's in a suit and everything." At that Henry sounded more sad then surprised.

Lassiter took the photo to take a look. The photo was…. Lassiter felt his heart break, not that anyone could know. Giselle looked gorgeous and happy, dressed in white and sporting a wide smile. Shawn looked the same, in a suit and pressed against Giselle cheek to cheek his mouth smiling just as wide. His arm was stretched out and disappeared up and off frame, which told Lassiter that Shawn had pulled his bride close to take the picture himself.

_I wonder if I could make him that happy? _Damn Shawn looked happy.

"Detective?" The chief's voice cut into his thoughts, and he looked to her almost forgetting what they were doing. "Detective – the picture please."

Lassiter handed the chief the photo, and clearing his throat he turned to face Giselle who was dabbing the corners of her eyes with a tissue.

"I've known Shawn for over five years – he's never mentioned a wife." Lassiter wasn't sure why he said that out loud, but he went with it anyway. "What's the story?"

Giselle sighed and motioned to a chair "May I sit?"

"Please." The chief nodded. "Detective I don't think this is the right time."

"Oh." Giselle offered a weak smile. "I really don't mind, I know it's suspicious. I'm willing to answer any and all questions, I promise."

"I have a question." Henry spoke out, "How did you and Shawn meet?"


	3. Back in 2003

**A/N: **New chapter! Not quite as long as I would've hoped, but long enough considering the following chapter is a **FLASHBACK!** So please enjoy! Reviews welcome, I seem to be a bit of a review whore nowadays – I just love hearing from people. Call me crazy!

Also yes, the spelling and grammar are a bit off – I do check it over but I'm not perfect, so if anyone would like to act as Beta please feel free to come forward via PM.

Chow for Now!

~Matilda

**Back in 2003**

Giselle was alone in her own world, and was doing her best to stay there until she reached her stop. With her car broken down and her mechanic taking his sweet time fixing it, the woman had to resort to public transit to get to work. She hated every second of it. The bus was nearly crowded, the only available seat left being the one next to her. Giselle planned to keep it that way; she carried with her a shoulder bag that she happily plopped in the vacant seat, she kept her forearm draped over the bag casually, and stared straight ahead determined not to talk to anyone.

After a few blocks, and the bus slowed and came to a halt. The doors flung open, and a single man boarded. Shawn Spencer. He paid his fare and made his way down the aisle, Giselle watched him and was annoyed when he stopped directly at her seat.

"I like your purse." Shawn commented. Giselle looked up to give Shawn a look over for the first time. He was attractive, but looked just a tad smug – but considering she was currently blocking access to the last seat on the bus, Giselle could guess why.

"Thank you." Giselle said, and she left it at that. She heard Shawn shuffle his weight from foot to foot, the bus started moving again and he was now holding on to the balance bar above her head.

"I doubt your purse needs its own seat." Shawn finally said, and Giselle held in a long sigh – who the hell was this guy?

"Bag's fine where it is Mr." - Giselle kept her voice flat. NYC wasn't as dangerous as it made out to be in the movies, but you never knew who could be chatting you up on the bus.

"Didn't mean to offend-" Shawn said. "-and its Mr. Spencer by the way – or Shawn, Whatever you prefer is fine though. Some people just call me Spencer -but mostly when they're irritated. One guy even called me Spenny once. I didn't like him."

"How about I just call you -'the guy who won't stop talking to me?' It seems like a pretty fair title wouldn't you agree _Spenny__?_"

"Sounds long." Shawn answered, and before Giselle knew what was happening he had snatched her purse.

"Don't even!" Giselle yelled and nearly stood "I will mess you right up Spencer!"

Shawn's response was to grin and sit down next to her, handing her back in purse in one piece. "Thievery's not my thing." Shawn admitted. "I don't think I could ever run fast enough."

"Whatever." Giselle grumbled "You got your seat now, so leave me alone."

"Fair enough." Shawn agreed and for a few minutes went completely silent. This relieved Giselle greatly… Until he started talking again.

"Random question." Shawn piped up.

"Ugh. – what?"

"Do you ever wonder if the reason you never meet the crazy guy on the bus is because you are the crazy one on the bus?"

"I've meant plenty of crazy people in the bus." Giselle grumbled "Today actually." She was of course referring to Shawn. She missed when Shawn grinned at that.

"Touché." Shawn answered. "Well for what it's worth, I only act this way when I think someone's attractive."

"You think I'm attractive?" Giselle snapped her head up to look right at Shawn who was still grinning- where the hell did that comment come from?

"Oh very." Shawn confessed. He then stood up just as the bus was slowing to another halt. "But this is me so there's no time to explain, farewell and may your purse happily have its seat back." He flashed her a cocky smile. Just like that – he was gone.

Later that day when Giselle reached into her purse to pay for her lunch, she found a business card – for a dentist she's never heard of before.

Dr. Ryan Feld was indeed a dentist; he was also Shawn Spencer's current employer. Shawn had nailed the job when he first arrived in NYC and met Dr. Feld at a Starbucks. Dr. Feld was having trouble explaining to a client on the phone why exactly he had to cancel their appointment for that day. The client was becoming hysterical and Dr. Feld was opposed to causing a scene in a public place – Shawn saw the man become desperate and didn't think twice about snatching the phone away from the Dr.

"Who is this?" Shawn asked.

"Betty Charmicheal – who is this? Where did Dr. Feld go?"

"I am the guy whose coffee you're greatly spoiling, and Dr. Feld is unable to come to the phone right now – call back tomorrow." Shawn pressed the hang up button and easily tossed the phone back to Dr. Feld. "Easy peasy." Shawn announced.

Dr. Feld took his phone back great fully and was now looking at Shawn like he was a god. Shawn saw this and quirked a brow.

"Please say you're looking for a job." Dr. Feld took a shot, he had never seen Shawn in the neighbourhood before – and Shawn looked nice enough. Shawn's response to the question was to smile and take a swig from his coffee.

So now Shawn's position? Secretary. It wasn't the coolest job ever, but Dr. Feld was a pretty cool guy and didn't have a lot of patients. He and Shawn spent most of the Dr's business hours in Dr. Feld's office. Which was where they were sitting when Shawn told Dr. Feld all about the girl he met on the bus that morning.

"She was so – different." Shawn explained. "Reeked of confidence and was all dressed up in a pant suit. You know me -I'm a sucker for a scowl in a suit. I had to bother her."

Dr. Feld snorted "I'm surprised you didn't waltz in here with a black eye, she sounds like a diva. From what I hear -they're pretty fierce."

"God I hope so." Shawn spun around on the stool he was sitting on. "She got so irritable so fast, I loved it thus I couldn't help myself. My new goal in life is to make her smile – even if just once."

"You're probably never going to see her again." Dr. Feld had that point that out. "New York City is huge."

"Well, we'll see – if she calls here we'll know then won't we?" Shawn chuckled a bit and grabbed a sugar free lollipop out of the big bowl on Dr. Feld's desk.

"Why would she be calling the office?" Dr. Feld frowned "Shawn – did you give my office number to a girl you were trying to pick up?"

"I may have dropped your business card into her purse – after I snatched it away from her like a common thief and made myself quite comfortable in the seat next to hers." Shawn didn't deny it, Dr. Feld face palmed.

"I swear to god Shawn if I get sued…"

"You're not getting sued." Shawn promised. "Well….maybe a little."

Dr. Feld went to say something but the phone rang, and despite the shit eating grin Shawn was still sporting the younger man still managed to reach across the desk and grab the receiver. "Dr. Feld's office."

"Is this Shawn Spencer?" Shawn recognized Giselle's voice immediately, she sounded mad.

"Maybe." Shawn left it at that, and Giselle went off on him.

"Where do you get off leaving shit in my purse? !"

"That's a good question." Shawn said then. "Of course, I didn't take anything out of the purse – so logically speaking you should be glad that didn't happen. Who knows who else could've sat beside you on the bus today, I sure don't- do you?"

"Blow it out your ass." Giselle grumbled, and Shawn laughed.

"You're just an angry woman aren't you?" Shawn challenged her. "You really have nothing better to do then call a number some lunatic on the bus dropped into your purse? For the sole purpose of verbally ripping him a new one? And right after lunch too if I maybe so bold to add."

"Don't turn this on me!" Giselle used a warning tone. "You're the one who dropped the number in the first place!"

"Well you called." Shawn said right away. "Which tells me that you're a tad curious about me."

"Oh now he's psychic." Giselle used sarcasm then, but the warning tone in her voice was gone – Shawn noticed that right away. He snickered to himself.

_Psychic hah! I'm going to have to remember that sometime._

"So you admit it." Shawn accused. "Well I'm glad. So! How does dinner sound?"

"What now?" Giselle stopped and now sounded confused.

"Dinner?" Shawn moved on to explain "It's a rather versatile word. It can be used in such ways as an adjective, a verb, and even a noun. The following Examples: 'That cat looks like dinner' said the hobo – that's the adjective. 'Oh man, food sounds great, we should totally dinner it up' said the young annoying hipster kid - that's the verb. Thus finally – the noun, 'Dinner with you is the first thing on my mind right now.' So how about it? Ms….?" Shawn waited; he could hear Giselle stifle a small laugh – aha! So she wasn't heartless after all.

"Giselle-" She finally admitted. "-and okay fine; we'll have dinner. Where are you picking me up Spencer?"

Shawn dropped the details of when and where he wanted to meet her and hung up the phone. He looked back to Dr. Feld who was eyeing him now with a raised eye brow.

"You just solicited while on the job." Dr. Feld said "On company time."

"Dude." Shawn defended. "We spend over _half_ the day playing rock paper scissors. Fun obviously, but seriously? You really should look into taking on more patients." Shawn had him there; Dr. Feld just laughed and shook his head.

"You're such a dick sometimes Spencer."

Shawn shrugged "It's why people love me – now, whose turn is it to buy smoothies?"


	4. Pictures

**A/ N: **Next chapter, yaaay! I'm updating my fics, slowly but surely – darn work. As always reviews are encouraged but be kind lol. I know this chapter is choppy, but I really wanted to go a little further into Shawn's marriage with out giving it all away, enjoy the chapter!

~Matilda

**Pictures**

Giselle after explaining how she and Shawn met had agreed to give the detective her address, she also agreed to stay at the station while the premises was searched. Of coure as soon as Lassiter and Henry were out of site and the Chief had slipped out of her office for a moment Giselle was on her cell phone and calling her lover.

"Talek, it's me. The police are on route, take Shawn and go." She left it at that and hung up quickly. Before long the Chief was back at her desk and Giselle acted polite making small conversation with her, of course it quickly turned to the chief asking her all the questions Lassiter should asked – but that was alright, Giselle could tell Lassiter was distracted.

_The detective has it bad for Shawn…Oh this is hilarious…_

Giselle basked in that thought as she answered questions.

"Mrs. Spencer – what do you do for a living?"

"Real estate agent."

"Okay, and after living in New York, and getting married – what made you decide to move to Santa Barbara?"

"My parents died in my teens, Shawn wanted to be closer to home – he hated New York. I agreed to move."

"See-" the chief got right down to it "I'm having a hard time believing you Mrs. Spencer – your husband has been assisting the SBPD for over five years now, not once has he mentioned a wife."

"I'm not exactly perfect." Giselle mused "He left me, and asked for divorce a few times."

"You're refusing him divorce?"

"I don't believe in divorce." Giselle held up her hand. "This ring is for life, as soon as we started having problems he bailed, doesn't like doing things the hard way."

The chief still didn't believe Giselle, but she left it at that for now and went back to paper work. Giselle waited patiently – Lassiter and Henry would be at her house by now.

The house Lassiter and Henry entered was a quaint little suburban home. 3 bedroom, 1 bath, and a deck in the back yard – it wasn't hard picturing a family a living here. Only it wasn't a family, it was Shawn. It was Shawn and this Giselle woman who popped out of the wood works.

Giselle had a taste for interior design it seemed, the furniture and accessories all matched – and looked pretty damn costly, every wall had a painting on it and the shelves were lined with books and pictures. The biggest picture being the one blown up over the mantle, a black and white shot of Shawn and Giselle's wedding again. Neither bride or groom were looking at the camera, Giselle and Shawn had their faces turned to Giselle's hand, Shawn had the ring and was slipping it onto Giselle's finger.

"This is too weird." Henry muttered "Why wouldn't he tell me he was married?"

"You're asking me?" Lassiter didn't know, he was too busy looking at the photo. He felt sick, Shawn looked happy and in love – Lassiter had to not think about it. The detective worked on keeping his feelings under wraps and keeping it professional. "Okay so the story." Lassiter went on. "They met in New York, got married, moved back here, he doesn't live there, and he hasn't told anyone he was married. Doesn't really say happy marriage does it?"

"Nope." Henry agreed.

_Thank god._

"Okay so not a happy marriage." Henry continued. "Now we find out why – easier said then done."

"We'll find something." Lassiter was determined, and the two set out on their search. They scaled the house from top to bottom and didn't find anything until they started searching through a desk in the spare room.

"Divorce papers." Henry announced. "Take a look." He brought out a semi thick folder and started rifling through it. "A divorce was filed in 2007, 08, 09, 2010, and again last week. All these papers are signed by him – but not her."

"That's quite a noose." Lassiter pointed out, and he felt oddly relieved and oddly pissed – Shawn's a good man. "Just give him a divorce already."

"She wants to keep him." Henry suggested. "Of course the why is debatable, his assets are few, I don't think he loves her – abuse?"

"Abuse?" Lassiter turned. "You think it's an abusive relationship?"

"Could be." Henry shrugged. "Men are abused just as much as women are, men just don't like to admit it."

Lassiter tried picturing Giselle throwing a fist at Shawn – but it didn't seem to fit, he was doubtful. "I'll keep it in mind."

"She's still at the station." Henry reminded him. "We can always ask her – pull up phone records, get access to her computer."

"There was a computer in the bedroom right?" When Henry nodded Lassiter went back upstairs and locating the laptop, snatched it up along with the cord. He returned to Henry. "Let's go."

They left again, Lassiter turning his head once again to the large photo graph over the mantle piece – why didn't Shawn tell anyone? That question was going to bother him until they found him.

_The wedding photo had been hung over the mantle piece; Giselle had done well with decorating her new house. She was excited, and she ran straight to the door when Shawn came in. Giselle greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and Shawn immediately noticed the giant photo over the fire place. _

"_That thing is massive." Shawn commented, and he turned his head to Giselle who was still smiling. _

"_Isn't it great?" Giselle mused and she took Shawn by the hand to guide him through the house to show him everything she had done while he was out. "I got an amazing deal on the frame work; I thought it'd be a surprise!"_

"_It's a surprise." Shawn chuckled. "Does it have to be so big?"_

"_Why?" Giselle crossed her arms. "Jealous?"_

"_Maybe, I mean – King Kong man, King Kong isn't that big." _

"_Well, when we start having kids – wouldn't be nice to have them playing here in the living room. Their parents always there with them?" She gestured again to the picture. "Isn't that a nice thought?" _

"_Oh it's a beautiful thought." Shawn admitted. "But uh – our kids are going to have some form of adult supervision and not just a picture right?"_

"_Of course!" Giselle chuckled. "Shawn don't be ridiculous, we're going to have the best nanny Santa Barbara has to offer."_

_Shawn quirked a brow "A nanny?"_

"_I'm a real estate agent." Giselle reminded him. "I can't take time off, and once you get a job you won't be able too either."_

"_Someone has to stay home." Shawn wasn't making it a question. "I never had a nanny, I had baby sitter's after school and that was it."_

"_It's common to have a nanny now Shawn." Giselle reminded him. "It'll be fine."_

"_I'm not paying someone to live in my house and raise my kids." Shawn left it at that. "If you're so determined to keep working, then keep working. I'll stay home."_

"_Shawn." Giselle softened. "That's so sweet." She agreed though. "Alright, you can stay home. Now." She tugged on the neck of his shirt. "Why don't we go try?"_

"_Try for what?" Shawn blinked, and Giselle gave him a come hither look. "Ohhhh for a baby." Shawn shrugged, they had discussed children on their honey moon – yeah Shawn wanted children with his wife, who wouldn't? "Okey dokey" and he followed her upstairs. _

Thank god they never conceived. The memory worked its way through Shawn's mind as he was transported from the house to wherever the other man was taking him. Shawn couldn't fathom a child being involved in all this. Finally the van started to slow and come to a halt. Shawn didn't know where they were and it aggravated him slightly – Giselle really was pulling all the stops now wasn't she? Shawn waited as the other man exited the vehicle and came around back, instead of pulling Shawn out of the van he got in the back with him and closed the door. He sat across from him and the two stared each other down. The man finally reached over and pulled the gag out of Shawn's mouth.

"You hurt?" The man asked, and Shawn was shocked.

"You're asking?" Shawn was perplexed. "I'm tied down like an animal, in the back of a van, and my ex wife is the one responsible."

"Stop bitching." The man said simply – he didn't yell. "Are you physically hurt?"

"No." Though Shawn kind of hoped he would be, it wouldn't be fun but when Lassie finally got down to the bottom of this case it would just be one more charge.

"Good." The other man said, he then leaned back against the wall of the van. "I'm Talek."

Why was this man making small talk? Now Shawn was confused. "Talek…" Shawn repeated. "Delightful – why am I here Talek?"

"Giselle says she has a plan." Talek answered. "Tells me to trust her."

"If she told you to lay down in front of a bus," Shawn quipped. "-or jump out of a plane? Would you?"

Talek gave Shawn a look like he wanted Shawn to shut up. "I trust my girl friend."

"You trust the girl friend who cheated on her husband, and then refused to give that same husband a divorce – multiple times I must add. I don't mean to pry but your childhood really must've been tragic."

Talek didn't answer; instead he just closed his eyes and changed the subject. "Before this is all over, I'm going to let you hit me once – as hard as you can."

Shawn tilted his head to the side. "What now?"

"I'm going to let you hit me." Talek answered. "It was pretty shitty of me to move in on another man's girl, feelings aside; you're entitled to one good shot."

"One good shot." Shawn could've laughed. "Because that'll just make everything better."

"Best I can do." Talek said. "Giselle's meeting us later tomorrow."

"Where is she now?" Shawn pressed. "What is she planning?"

"I can't tell you." Talek said. "I'm putting the gag back on you now."

Shawn went to protest but Talek was on him and the gag was back in his mouth. Shawn grunted – this whole thing sucked, and it wasn't making a lick of sense. Shawn was starting to get home sick. He wanted to be back in the police station, causing a spectacle and prancing around – he wanted to see Lassie frown at him, and scowl at him. It was weird – but Shawn was really missing Lassie.


	5. Entangled

**A/N: ** A new chapter, yay! Though you probably shouldn't read this one if you're not a fan of Shawn bashing. I'm a big fan of Shawn bashing – I really don't know why. It's a sickness, mostly because I'm addicted to Lassie kissing it better. Reviews encouraged! Opinions are valued!

Chow for Now!

~Matilda

**Entangled**

Lassie was missing Shawn. The fact that they weren't any closer to finding him was aggravating and the detective could tell just by looking at the older Spencer that he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Giselle's presence wasn't providing much help. They were back at the station and in the interrogation room, just her and Lassie. Lassie slid the divorce papers across the table.

"Chief says you don't believe in divorce, religious reasons?" Lassie knew it was pretty bold, but it was also pretty bold to deny divorce more then three times.

"Not at all." Giselle wasn't going on the offence anytime soon, "Personal, my parents never got a divorce, the same way my grandparents never got a divorce – and my grandparents hated each other."

"So it's a pride thing, keeping your families good name – the name being?"

"Kaden, and pride is only part of it. Marriage is a job detective Lassiter, you commit to it and then you do it." Giselle crossed one slender leg over the other. She had a very definite way of talking like – what she was saying was right and always right.

"Only Shawn doesn't want to do the job anymore." Lassiter countered back to the divorce papers. "Your marriage isn't exactly a happy place for him. Why is that? You rough him up a little? Yell a little too loudly? What's the story Giselle?"

Giselle visibly rolled her eyes. "We had a few fights okay; before Shawn left we were trying to have a baby. He wanted to be a dad and I wanted to be a good wife. Only it wasn't happening."

"You mean you weren't a good wife? Oh shocking." Lassiter sneered – just a little.

"No, the baby wasn't happening." A bit of mischief flashed behind her eyes then as she continued on. "We kept trying and trying, different positions, different surfaces, 3 maybe 5 times a day. Both of us were giving it our all. Shawn especially." Giselle watched then as Lassiter tried to control himself, picturing Shawn that entangled with her was affecting him for the worse. Giselle was using that to her full advantage.

"You're trying." Lassiter repeated. "Then something happened and he left. What did you do to him Giselle?"

Giselle leaned back in her seat, so the detective wasn't that easy to manipulate, she'd just have to up her game. 'When lies fail, use the truth to fool.' "I had an affair."

"An affair?" Lassiter leaned forward prepping himself onto his forearms. "Go on."

"His name is Talek Anders, we met when I was selling him an apartment. We had a few appointments; he's a really sweet and trusting guy. By that time Shawn and I were already at odds with each other. I wasn't really thinking. Shawn left to run some errands said he'd be gone most of the day. I called Anders over. Shawn came home before Anders and I finished. He got a front row seat of his wife cheating on him. I haven't seen him since."

Lassiter almost frowned – hadn't seem in him since? It was a lie, she just told it so well. He almost believed her, even still she cheated? Poor Shawn… "You cheated, he left, and yet you're the one who doesn't want a divorce? At this point, you kind of owe him lady."

"Hardly." Giselle went on. "Like I said, marriage is a commitment. That's how I see it, Shawn knew that when he popped the question. I've tried calling him, I've tried talking to him, I need him to forgive me so we can start over. Which is why I'm here – if the police find him and he sees that I was involved he might be more willing to see me. I need my husband back."

Lassiter couldn't believe it, she really wanted Shawn back? Doubtful. The detective wanted evidence against her so badly right then; Shawn wasn't hers to screw around with so badly. Lassiter hoped that somehow she was involved in the psychic's disappearance so that he could slam the bars closed on her. He hated this woman with everything he had.

"Tell me more about Talek Anders." Lassiter moved on from there, at this point he was looking for anyone who might have a reason to take Shawn. Disputes over a girl were sadly more common then they should be.

Talek Anders like Giselle said earlier was generally sweet and trusting. Maybe too trusting. Currently he was sitting in his van wondering what was taking Giselle so long – he didn't like keeping another man tied up in his van. It was weird. He regarded Shawn through the rear view mirror, Shawn was sitting cross legged and still gagged – but he was staring right back. It had been a long agonizing day, and unlike she promised Giselle had yet to show her self.

"She should be calling soon." Talek promised. "I don't know what's taking her long."

Shawn had a feeling he knew, yaaay Lassie! Though unable to share his exuberance Shawn merely huffed and cranked his head from side to side. He hated this scenario, really hated it – deciding enough was enough he started clamouring for Talek's attention.

He thrashed his legs, Shawn made loud MMMPH noises through his gag, and rolled his torso around like a mad man. Talek was up and coming towards the back of the van in record time, Shawn kicked at him, and thrashed about still.

"Stop! Stop!" Talek started hollering him, only there was a weird tone in his voice – Shawn could tell that he was nervous. Worried even. At that moment Shawn changed up his game, and instead of thrashing around like a man man he started thrashing around like he was in pain. Shawn whimpered loudly and curled into the fettle position rocking on his side. Talek was on him.

"Shit shit shit shit." Talek cursed "What is it, what's wrong?"

_Hehehe sucker…_

Shawn moaned and winced when Talek touched him, finally completely panicked Talek pulled Shawn's gag out.

"It hurts…." Shawn whined. "Oh god it hurts…."

"It hurts? What hurts?"

"Everywhere!" Shawn cried out. "My meds I need my meds! ….Oh god I could die, Talek I don't want to die…."

"Meds? Oh god what meds…" Talek took the bate. "Giselle might kill me, are the meds in your pocket?"

Talek reminded Shawn of a large child and suddenly Shawn felt kind of bad for the guy, but still – he had to get of there.

"My meds are back at Psych." Shawn turned on the water works. "We can't get to them," he sniffled and lowered his head. "I'm going to die."

Talek looked like he was mulling it over in his head, and Shawn could only guess why. Talek's personality had shifted so drastically. When Talek first showed himself in the garage – he was mean and arrogant, not thinking twice about picking up Shawn like yesterday's trash and throwing him into the back of a van. Now suddenly Talek was acting overly friendly and genuinely concerned for Shawn's well being.

Shawn wondered if maybe Talek was bi-polar, and hoped it was just a strange coincidence. He hated to think of what could happen if he pissed Talek off.

"I can't get you to psych." Talek sounded apologetic "I trashed the place, its probably still crawling with cops."

Well Talek was smart – to a degree, of course Psych was still crawling with cops, Shawn knew the chief wouldn't waste a single expense on a search operation – bless her. Shawn had talked and acted his way out of stuff like this before, he'd do it again.

"You have to keep this on the down low." Shawn whispered. "But I know a guy who can save me."

"Save you?"

"Yeah." Shawn winced again and gave the impression he was getting weaker. "He works for a pharmaceutical company, sometimes I use him as my dealer when I can't get a doctor's note or enough cash…" Shawn coughed.

"What's his number?" Talek said. "Can we get to him from here?"

"Get to Gus?" Shawn repeated. "Oh yeah, but Gus is a pretty touchy guy. One wrong world and he'll mess you right up. You should let me talk to him."

"I can't untie you." Talek stammered. "I promised I wouldn't."

"Well then, hold your phone to my ear; I can give you his number."

Talek looked like he was really thinking about it, and for a second Shawn was convinced he had the other man convinced. So what happened next – well…Sadly Shawn was right. Talek was indeed bi-polar, he spotted Shawn's lie and immediately was pissed. Talek unfortunately wasn't the type to hold back when he was angry.

"You're trying to get me caught!" Talek yelled at him. "You want me to go to jail!"

"I just want to go home." Shawn said. "Talek – listen to me…"

"Listen for shit Spencer!" Talek's fist flew forward, and Shawn tried jerking his torso out of the way but it wasn't any use. Talek hit him. Shawn could feel the pain shoot through his face – yeah that was definitely a black right there. Only it didn't stop there. Another fist into Shawn's ensured a bruise. Shawn was winded and he sputtered for air.

Talek took a heavy breathe, and seemed to calm. He didn't beat Shawn to a pulp – which was a miracle. Aside from the black eye Shawn currently couldn't see out of; that could prove to be a problem. Shawn kept his eyes squeezed shut and listened, Talek was up, and grabbing the van keys was out.

"I'm going for a walk if try to escape and I'll kill you." Talek didn't sound like he was joking.

Shawn listened as the van doors were slammed shut. …Did Talek just leave? By god he did! Shawn was up, and prying his one good eye open looked around. The van was definitely locked, and with Shawn's hands still hog tied behind his back the fake psychic could only rely on his legs. Which brought Shawn's attention to the van's front windshield.

Shawn shimmied to the front of the van, and wasted no time. He was in the passenger seat, an adjusting his weight and legs – he started kicking at the glass. He was getting out of this van. He had to. Sure Talek had said that if Shawn tried getting away he' get killed, but Shawn knew by now that Talek was dangerous regardless.

He kicked and kicked, stopping every few kicks to listen for foot steps. He kicked until his breathe became laboured, and his legs were turning into rubber. Finally the windshield came loose, one more kick and the glass crumbled. A few shards embedded themselves into Shawn's legs – which hurt, and obviously bled but that was nothing compared to what Shawn had just done. Shawn had escaped. He didn't see a sign of Talek anywhere, and didn't want to either. Shawn was in a considerable amount of pain and didn't fancy getting anymore delivered. Shawn was running – and running fast despite the blood and the glass coming out of his legs.

He thankfully recognized the area, Talek hadn't taken him far out of Santa Barbara at all. So Shawn was on route, zig zagging between trees and staying off the main trail. If he managed to keep up this pace, if he didn't stop, then he could be at the station within the next two hours. Hopefully Talek didn't catch up before then.


End file.
